The Fat Fryer
by PeverellForever
Summary: It's the best kept secret of Hufflepuff house. It's the history of their house ghost, the Fat Friar. It's the McDonalds hidden in Hogwarts. It's pure stupidity. This is the "true" story of the Fat Friar, and why he's not really a Friar, but a Fry-er.
1. The New Guy at McDonalds

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I'm not JK Rowling. I don't own Lord of the Rings…blah, blah, blah.

Other Disclaimer: Oh, and absolutely no offense to anyone who is a Hufflepuff, or works at McDonalds. I have never worked at McDonalds, so I'm just making all this stuff up. In no way am I dissing McDonalds, the people who work there, or Hufflepuffs.

A glade of trees lay behind a small McDonalds on Harrogate Road in North Yorkshire. With a small pop, a man appeared just out of sight of the road and the drive-through window of the McDonalds.

None of the Muggles in the nearby McDonalds saw this strange sight, however. They were too busy glancing out the window to see when the newest member of their staff would be arriving. His car should have been pulling into the car park at that minute if he wasn't going to be late, but there was no car. Instead, a fat man dressed in brown robes, with a bald patch on the top of his head that made him look like a monk, stepped inside through the door opposite to the car park.

The man's name was Fatty Lumpkin (no connection to the horse from Lord of the Rings who has the same name), and he was a Wizard, hence the apparition. He had come to McDonalds because food was his passion, and he had decided that he needed to study a broader variety of foods to refine his tastes. Being a pureblood Wizard, he had no idea that in the Muggle world, McDonalds is not exactly a fancy restaurant.

The staff of McDonalds started slightly at this man's appearance, seemingly, from nowhere, but they smiled graciously, assuming that he was an early customer, perhaps he was a Friar stopping by for a meal on his way back to church, or, well, something had to explain his , um, unusual appearance.

But the man strode calmly up to the counter, smiled rather buoyantly, and stretched out a hand to shake the cashiers.

"Hi! My name's Fatty Lumpkin, and I'll be working with you guys from now on!" he said in a rather exuberant manor.

The cashier paused for a moment, but then he smiled and extended a hand to shake Fatty's.

"Hey, I'm Robby," he replied. He paused for a minute, still holding Fatty's hand before asking, "What's up with the robe-y dress thing?"

Fatty was rather startled at this question. He couldn't understand why they _weren't_ wearing robes, and had been intending to ask. He had never taken Muggle Studies at Hogwarts, preferring to take the time that he would have been in that class to sneak down to the kitchens to sample their food. He had been rather proud of his reputation as Hogwarts's fattest student ever.

Quickly thinking of an explanation that would satisfy the Muggles, he replied, "What, this? Oh, um, where I used to work everyone wore these."

He looked hopefully at the cashier.

"Well…" the cashier said slowly, "At McDonalds we got a dress code, and it says that everyone's gotta wear them McDonald's polo shirts. Why don't you go down to the loo in the back and change?"

He handed Fatty a shirt with the McDonalds logo on it, and pointed to the bathroom in the back.

Now, the only problem was, Fatty wasn't wearing any pants. I mean, who wears pants under their wizard robes? Well, not knowing what else to do, Fatty took the shirt, walked around the corner to the bathroom in the back, opened the door, and stepped inside. Once he was there, he made a quick decision. He could disapparate back home for some pants, and none of the Muggles would ever know.

Fatty quickly disapparated with the smallest pop he could manage, and appeared back at home. He quickly grabbed a pair of pants, and apparated back to McDonalds. There, he changed into the polo shirt and pants, wondering if this job was really more trouble than it was worth.

Back at the drive-through operator's place, Robby was having similar sentiments.

"This guy is nuts, Rich," he told the drive-through operator. "He comes in, in this absurd looking robe, and he's fat as an elephant. Says he used to work at some place where they wore robes."

"Yeah, well, Rob, this is McDonalds. We shouldn't exactly expect people with Phds from Harvard to work here, should we? We're bound to meet some weird people. Just cut this new guy some slack. He was obviously the best man for the job, or he wouldn't have gotten it," replied Rich, though he couldn't help smiling to himself at the thought of a massively fat guy walking in the door in brown robes.

At that moment, Fatty Lumpkin could be heard trying to squeeze himself behind the counter.

"You know what, Rob? I think I'll go help this guy," added Rich as Robby let out an audible sigh. "Why don't you take my post for a bit?"

"Thanks," replied Robby, a look of intense relief spreading over his face. "Good luck!"

Smiling to himself, Rich walked up behind the counter, wondering to himself exactly what kind of person he would find. When he looked up, he realized instantly.

Fatty Lumpkin had put on a pair of tight, spandex pants.


	2. Okay First Day

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Harry Potter, but I don't. Sorry.

Other Disclaimer: I am absolutely not trying to offend anyone who is overweight. I have absolutely nothing against fat people. Just those who wear tight spandex. Siriusly, if you are fat, you should not be wearing spandex. Also, no offense to anyone who works at McDonalds. I have never worked there and therefore have no idea what it's supposed to be like, so I'm sorry if my story is unbearably far from what people who work at McDonalds actually do. Oh, and even though this hasn't come into the story yet, no offense to Hufflepuffs.

Put simply: I am not trying to diss anyone; I'm sorry if I offend anyone from any race, gender, creed, or whatever other group you may belong to.

Richard Walker was usually pretty good at handling strange people, but looking at the fat man wearing spandex pants who had just barely squeezed through the gap that any normal human could have fit through without even considering that anyone couldn't fit through it, he was at a total loss as to what to say. To say the man was fat as an elephant was almost not enough. Perhaps it was enhanced by the fact that he was wearing tight spandex, but this was probably the fattest man he had ever seen. He was roughly four feet across and five and a half feet tall, with thighs the size of rolled up sleeping bags. And he was wearing spandex. Richard opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Luckily, the man initiated the dialog.

"Hi! My name's Fatty Lumpkin! Nice to meet you!" said the man.

Fat-ty Lump-kin is right, thought Rich, but he wasn't so rude to say that. Instead, he said,

"Hey, name's Rich. Welcome to McDonalds," said Rich in as cool a voice he could muster. He was struggling to keep from laughing. "'s that all you were wearing under those robes of yours?"

Fatty smiled inwardly, thinking that his charade of having been wearing pants the whole time had worked. The Muggle's hadn't noticed him disapperating home.

"Yep!" said Fatty, putting on his biggest smile to make a good impression.

He doesn't seem bothered by the fact that he's wearing spandex. Well, I guess he hasn't got time to go home and change, so we'll just have to hope that he puts on better clothes tomorrow, thought Rich.

"Well, c'mon. I'll show you where to start," he said, beckoning to Fatty to follow him.

He led fatty to the fryer in the back, where they made their French fries. It was as far away from the counter in the front, and none of their customers would be able to see Fatty back there.

"Pat comes to work about ten minutes from now," Rich told Fatty. "She'll tell you what the orders are, so you can box the fries. She packages the orders and takes them to the front. You know how to fry fries, right?"

"Yeah, I know how to do all that stuff," replied Fatty, not entirely truthfully. He did know how to fry French Fries, but sure didn't know how to do it without magic. He supposed he would learn rather quickly.

Rich breathed an inward sigh of relief at Fatty's words. He had been so sure Fatty wouldn't know how to do anything.

"Well, then, I'll leave you here. If you've got any questions, ask Rob. He works at the counter," said Rich, gesturing towards the front counter that was out of sight behind a wall.

Fatty nodded, and Rich walked away, breathing a just barely inaudible sigh of relief.

The rest of the day went rather smoothly. It transpired that Fatty was actually a very able French Fry fryer and he certainly was more efficient than Rob, Rich, or Pat were. (They didn't know he was using magic, as they preferred to stay as far away from him as possible.) Of course, they didn't know that half of the fries he made went into his mouth to fund his ever increasing supply of fatness.

It was only when Pat and Fatty were getting ready to leave that Rob and Rich remembered the strange circumstances of Fatty's arrival.

"Where's your ca'?" asked Rob, as Fatty, for lack of a better word, waddled towards the door of the McDonalds.

Thinking fast once again, Fatty replied, "I walked!"

"_You _walked here?" Rob asked, unable to keep himself from emphasizing the first word.

"Yep!" said Fatty in his annoyingly ever cheerful voice.

Choosing to just accept this bizarre fact, Rob nodded and waved as Fatty walked towards the glade of trees, now shadowed in darkness.

Fatty was quite pleased with his success at his first day at McDonalds. He had managed to get a really good concept of how to best cook Muggle French Fries, and he hoped to gain much more experience as the days passed. He wasn't just working at a fast food restaurant to earn money and taste food now. He had seen the variety of food and efficiency with which the Muggles made it, and he wanted to know how to make every type of food served at McDonalds. Then, he would bring his experience back to the Wizarding World.

With that thought in mind, Fatty spun on the spot, feeling his way into nothingness with deliberation, desperation, and determination, or whatever the heck Wilkie Twycross said it was. 


	3. Fatty's Utter Ignorance

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is mine. It was my birthday present. My precious… JK. I don't own the One Ring, or Harry Potter.

Other Disclaimer: The only people I am trying to insult by writing this fanfic are fat people who wear tight spandex. If you do not fall into that category, I do not mean to insult you. Also, there is a real McDonalds on Harrogate road, so no offense to anyone who works there, or eats there. (Not that there's much of a chance of someone who works at a random McDonalds in England reading this, but just to be safe…)

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><p>Considering his success during his first day at work, Fatty Lumpkin fully expected to have many more delightful days working at the great place of Muggle food production, McDonalds. However, the very next day, everything fell apart.<p>

Fatty thought he had it all planned well. He would come to work in Muggle clothes, and everyone would forget about his little mistake with his robes yesterday. They had really seemed quite pleased with his French Fries, so why shouldn't they forgive him a little mistake?

Well, over at the Harrogate Road McDonalds Rob and Rich were disagreeing over exactly that matter.

"Hey Rich, can I 'ave a word?" Rob asked as he made his way through the McDonalds kitchen (if you could call it that) to Rich's drive through station.

"Sure, what's up?" replied Rich, looking up, though he knew exactly what this was going to be about. He knew Rob was a very ordered person who didn't like anything abnormal coming into his world. He also knew that Rob would do just about anything to maintain that sense of order, wherever he was.

Predictably, Rob answered, "It's that guy, Fatty Lumpy or whatever the heck his name is."

"What about him?" asked Rich blandly, leaning back against the drive through window.

"He's crazy Rich. I 'eard him back there. Mumblin' all kindsa nonsense words, or else they were Latin or some other strange language that no one speaks. I don't want to work with a guy who talks t'imself and wears spandex. Plus he's about four feet wide," said Rob, exasperated at the fact that his friend was being so stupid.

"C'mon, cut the guy some slack. It was his first day. Maybe he'll be dressed better today." Secretly, however, Rich doubted it. He didn't even really know why he was standing up for the guy.

"D' ya really want him to stay?" Rob asked, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Rob, you know I hate trying to get people fired. Look, if he's not better dressed today, maybe I'll help you do something about it," Rich said, giving up the argument.

"Thanks mate," replied Rob, and he turned and left for the front counter without another word.

Rich couldn't help but wonder what he had gotten himself into.

* * *

><p>Fatty apparated to the same place he had the day before, and stepped out of the woods, proudly displaying his carefully chosen Muggle clothes. Seeing that they were drawing some attention from the people at the gas station, he smiled to himself, silently congratulating himself for the good choice.<p>

From the glade of trees, Fatty waddled (for that was the best he could do, being barely taller than he was wide) up to the McDonalds, and, putting on his big smile, he pushed open the door of the McDonalds.

Robby was standing at the counter just as he had been yesterday. Fatty's heart filled with excitement at being back in the place where so much good food was made. He quickly made his way to the counter, not noticing the petrified look on Robby's face.

"Good day!" Fatty said exuberantly, but politely.

"Hey," Robby replied, blinking several times before putting on a pained smile, then looking away.

Fatty was rather puzzled by that, but he assumed that Robby was probably tired, and did not have much energy to smile. It was quite a strange concept to Fatty, who was always exuberant and smiling.

"Will I be doing the same thing as yesterday?" Fatty inquired, catching Robby's eye.

"Yeah," Robby said, not looking at him.

"Jolly good!" Fatty replied cheerfully, and waddled to the back of the kitchen.

Rob watched him go, shaking his head. Something needed to be done about this guy. He was a freak.

No one, and I mean no one, should ever come to work anywhere (except for maybe a circus) wearing tight pink spandex with little green leaves printed on it, along with a shirt that puke green and three sizes too small. Especially if they are as fat as Fatty Lumpkin.

These were Robby's thoughts exactly. He decided that no one would ever, ever again come to work at the Harrogate Road McDonalds wearing those clothes, least of all Fatty Lumpkin. If his plan worked, Fatty would be fired before tomorrow.


	4. Fried

Disclaimer: Why do I bother putting this on every single chapter? If you want to see my disclaimer, read the previous chapter.

Other Disclaimer: No offense to anyone.

A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than the other ones, but I wanted to stop it before he went to Hogwarts and couldn't think of anything else to fill the space.

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><p>Needless to say, Robby's plan worked. Robby breathed a sigh of relief as Fatty Lumpkin left McDonalds for the last time; he smiled to himself, congratulating himself on such a good idea. With Fatty gone for good, they had a hope of working with someone normal again. Robby couldn't help but smile larger at that thought.<p>

Earlier that day, he had chosen to tell the manager that the man he had hired did not have any concept of how to dress, or generally how to act in front of customers. The manager had taken one look at Fatty's odd choice of clothing for the day, and had agreed in a heartbeat. He could always find someone else to work at the restaurant, and the man's behavior was frightening and unacceptable. Fatty hadn't even been able to defend his actions. He just asked for another chance.

"I'm sorry," he had said. "Give me another chance. I can go home and get better clothes. I'll be back in a heartbeat!" But Mr. Lumpkin hadn't exactly sounded quite sane to the manager. There had been a quality to his voice, a barely suppressed boisterousness almost, that had decided it. Fatty Lumpkin would no longer be working for McDonalds as long as he had a say in it. And he had told Lumpkin so.

The man had hung his head, and accepted what he said without further protest. It seemed almost pitiful. However, people like that could not be allowed to work at a restaurant that had customer service standards, even if it was a fast food restaurant like McDonalds. Fatty Lumpkin was leaving McDonalds and never coming back.

* * *

><p>Fatty looked back at the little McDonalds ruefully. If only the Muggles had given him a chance, he could have done wonders for their food. Alas, if he had only taken Muggle Studies at school, he would have known how to dress.<p>

Two days on the job and he had been fired. Anger welled up inside him at the injustice of it all. How could they fire him after just two days? They hadn't said anything about what he was wearing, so how could he have known that it "wasn't appropriate." It was all that pig Robby's fault. (How Fatty has the gall to call anyone a pig is beyond me, but there you have it) The Cauldron Bum couldn't think past his own sense of Muggle order and nice-looking-ness. Muttering under his breath, he disapparated.

As he apparated into his front yard in Tinworth, he became even angrier. Glancing down at his hand, where he had felt a burning pain, he realized that he had splinched himself, most likely because he wasn't concentrating while apparating.

Fatty waddled inside, knocking over the small table by his front door with his, um, backside, as he passed. Cursing under his breath, but otherwise ignoring the table, he flopped down onto the couch. (Yes, all five by four feet of him. I think the couch was magically reinforced.)

It just wasn't fair. He had only worked there for two days. Sure he had learned most of their cooking techniques, but now he couldn't use them anymore.

Then he thought of his plan, and why he had gone to work at McDonalds in the first place. It wasn't because he had actually wanted that to be his job for a long time; it was to learn how to cook like a Muggle. Thinking about that, Fatty realized that now he was at the last stage of his plan.

_Time to go to Hogwarts_, he thought, and he stood up to go put on some wizard robes before leaving.


	5. Hogwarts and Hufflepuff

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Or Hufflepuff House (I thought I was a Ravenclaw, but got sorted into Slytherin on Pottermore! Identity Crisis!) Or Professor Trevolry. (That's Tara of My Immortal's misspelling of Trelawney)

Other Disclaimer: No offense to fat people, or Hufflepuffs, or anyone with the last name Smith or Lumpkin (though I feel sorry for you). Oh, and the location of the Hufflepuff common room is a Pottermore spoiler.

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><p>Fatty Lumpkin paused for breath at the front doors of Hogwarts. Normally, he apparated everywhere, but obviously, you can't apparate into Hogwarts, so he had to walk. Walking presented a slight challenge for Fatty, considering the fact that he was, well, can we say majorly out of shape. But it wasn't just that he was too fat. Fatty also had to find a way to sneak into the castle without being noticed by someone. This was doubly hard, considering that a person of his size could not go anywhere without attracting a certain amount of attention. Fortunately, he had a plan.<p>

The headmaster of Hogwarts at the time was Armando Dippet, and he wasn't known for being the most cautious headmaster ever. He generally allowed visitors to come to the castle if they had important business rather than going to meet them wherever they worked. Hopefully, Fatty, who was dressed in robes that made him look like a friar, would appear to be some sort of priest going to meet the headmaster. Of course, he had no intention of meeting the headmaster, and this was only an excuse to get into the castle and down to the Hufflepuff common room. He didn't know what he would do if he met the headmaster, but he could surely think of something.

Fatty continued up the steps to the front door of Hogwarts, and entered. It was a Friday, so the students were all in their classes, so he was in no danger of meeting anyone in the entrance hall. He quickly waddled down to the hallway just off the entrance hall. There, as it had been when he was at Hogwarts, was a pile of barrels. He quickly tapped the barrel two from the bottom in the middle of the second row in the rhythm of Hel-ga Huff-le-puff, as was the way to get into their common room. He squeezed his way into the sloping, earthy passageway that led to the Hufflepuff common room. He walked slowly, due to the fact that he could barely fit through the tunnel. As he walked, he wondered what he would find in the common room.

"Who the heck are you?" a muffled voice came from behind him. It was muffled because Fatty's mass was taking up most of the tunnel, so the sound could barely travel around it.

Fatty quickened his pace to get out of the tunnel so he could turn and face his questioner. As he squeezed his bulk out of the tunnel, and turned his back on the three seventh years in the common room who were staring at him.

"Hello," he said politely, attempting to express his normally exuberant manor. "I am Friar Lumpkin. I was wondering if I could have a word with Professor Trevolry."

"Oh…um…well, her office isn't here. It's next to classroom eleven, just outside the door. How did you get in here anyway?" the student spoke the last question as if he had just thought of it in the course of speaking.

"I used to be a Hufflepuff," Fatty said truthfully. "In my time here, you could always get into the head of Hufflepuff's office through the common room. It was next to classroom eight, just outside the barrels," he continued, inventing wildly as he went.

"You were a Hufflepuff?" an incredulous voice came from behind him.

Fatty turned his body around to find all three of the seventh years standing behind him. A girl with red hair, and freckles had asked the question.

"Yes!" Fatty exclaimed happily. "The entrance to the Hufflepuff common room is a carefully guarded secret. You know that no one but a Hufflepuff could get in here."

"Of course," the girl said. "Well, I can show you to her office if you need help. C'mon." She eyed the way his body was covering the entire entrance to the room with a slightly anxious expression.

"Sure," he said cheerfully, and allowed her to lead the way out of the common room, trying to think of what to do next. In all honesty, Fatty Lumpkin was never good at planning, and mainly relied on good luck to get him where he needed to go. He was hoping that Professor Trevolry wouldn't be in her office so he could escape from the students, and try to come back to the Hufflepuff common room later when it was empty.

But his luck had just run out. Professor Trevolry, the Japanese astronomy teacher and head of Hufflepuff house, was sitting at her desk as the student led him in. Her office was decorated with the Hufflepuff colors, with a badger banner on the wall next to her desk, which sat on the left side of the room, facing the right wall. An expression of extreme surprise crossed her face as she looked upon the enormous man. However, the expression was gone within a second, and was replaced by a look of polite interest.

"Hello," she said politely, but with a thick Japanese accent. "May I ask who you are?"

"My name is Fatty Lumpkin. I was wondering if I could have a word with you," Fatty replied, smiling graciously.

"Of course," she said cheerfully. "Oh, hold on, do you need something, Miss Smith?" She turned to the girl.

"Oh, no, I was just showing Mr. Lumpin…" she glanced at him, as if asking if she had gotten the name right. "how to get to your office."

"That was very kind of you. Thank you Miss Smith," replied Trevolry kindly. Smith smiled and left the room.

"So how may I help you Mr. Lumkin?" she enquired.

"I have a proposal to make about your house," replied Fatty cheerfully, preferring to not comment about her mispronunciation.

"Okay?"

"I would like your house's help in starting a fast food restaurant in this school."


	6. Just Add Ninjas

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, though if I were JK Rowling I would totally write fanfiction for my own book.

Other Disclaimer: Yah know, the usual. Don't hate me if you're fat and/or a Hufflepuff. Especially if you're a Hufflepuff. I don't want to get attacked by Ninjas.

A/N: Last Chapter. I really needed to finish this thing. Oh, and someone dies. VIOWER EXCRETION ADVISD!

ooOOOoo

Professor Trevorly stared at Fatty Lumpkin with an expression he was sure could only be awe and admiration. Her mouth hung slightly open, her eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets in surprise. He raised his eyebrows hopefully.

Trevolry's eyes darted this way and that, finally resting on a katana sitting in the corner of her room. She walked slolwly over to the corner and picked up the weapon, drawing her wand as well.

"What did you say?" The edge to her voice must have been amazement. Surely she thought she hadn't heard his brilliant proposal, though why she was holding a katana was beyond him.

"I would like your houses help in starting a fast food restaurant."

"And why my house?"

"I have always believed, as a part of Hufflepuff pride, that this house would like fast food the best."

"You were a Hufflepuff?" She eyed his fat, raising her katana and wand.

"Naturally."

Professor Trevolry took a deep breath pointing her wand and shouting at the top of her lungs, "AVADA KEDAVRA!" as she threw the katana at him.

Fatty Lumpkin fell to the ground instantly, dead from both the curse and the sword now implanted in his chest. Professor Trevolry smiled to herself. She had rid her house of a scourge that encouraged the stereotype that Hufflepuffs were always fat and stupid. She calmly left the body there in the middle of the room and went back to grading papers.

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><p>"Is he gone?" asked Smith, peeking her head into the room about half an hour later. She spotted the corpse on the ground. "Oh, good. He seemed like another one of those Hufflepuffs that make us look bad."<p>

"I heard that!" a voice yelled from above Fatty's body. A ghost had formed above the dead man. "I will never allow the glorious reputation of Hufflepuff house to be destroyed by those who don't think we are fat and food loving! I am the new ghost of Hufflepuff house."

"Oh,shit." Smith laughed. "You should probably call the Ministry of Magic. They'll do something about this."

So Professor Trevolry made a floo call to the Ministry of Magic later that day to ask them to force Fatty Lumpkin's ghost to behave himself. To this day, because of the Ministry's decree, he has to wear a black robe and act like a Friar. But he is, and always will be, a French Fry Fryer. He continues to promote the stereotype of fatness and stupidity among Hufflepuffs though, and he actually has gotten several of them hooked on his French fry recipe. It's said that they started a fast food restaurant in the common room once to sell them.

And that's the greatest secret of Hufflepuff house: They are actually badass, katana wielding ninjas.

They keep up the charade of normalcy by starting fast food restaurants in their common rooms and allowing the Fat Friar to do stupid things, but inside they are not stupid. They will hunt you down and destroy you like Professor Trevorly did to Fatty Lumpkin if you ever speak ill of their house ever again.


End file.
